


Primo and Secondo

by marzya



Category: Dead Poets Society (1989)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-31
Updated: 2014-05-31
Packaged: 2018-01-27 17:05:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,885
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1718111
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/marzya/pseuds/marzya
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“You didn’t tell me you could play the piano.” </p>
<p>“Neither did you.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Primo and Secondo

**Author's Note:**

> Primo: "first"; in a piano duet, the person on the right
> 
> Secondo: "second"; in a piano duet, the person on the left
> 
> This fic is pretty much inspired by the piano duet scene in Stoker. I just thought I'd write this for a bit of practice with Neil and Todd. (Sorry for any typos. I've already read through it, but somehow I always find something new each time. ToT)

Sometimes Todd finds himself content enough to do nothing but sit down at a piano and stare at the keys. He’ll sit with proper posture atop the bench with his hands on either side of his legs, but sometimes his fingers will twitch slightly with the urge to press down on the keys, and so he does, gently running the pads of his fingers over the smooth keys, feeling the gaps between them as his fingers move up and down. 

At other times, his fingers will press down ever so slightly, allowing a quiet note to fly through the air. Some days he’ll settle for playing little tunes with one hand, one note at a time and stringing together a silly little melody without a name. He thinks maybe one day he’ll write them down and give them all titles, because each piece is a work of art no matter the simplicity and deserve to be noticed in some way.

On other days, if he’s feeling particularly inspired, he’ll set both hands on the keys and play, watching as his fingers dance across the keyboard, before closing his eyes and imagining the invisible notes and the pretty sounds that go with them flowing about, over and beneath the propped up piano lid as well as around him, encircling him in their mirth and beauty until it is all he senses. And that’s when he’s gone—lost in his own world where there’s nothing but him and the music and the inexplicable loveliness of it all.

Today is one of those days. Today, Todd Anderson finds himself seated at the piano bench—alone, as it always has been, for this is a skill and pastime he much prefers to keep to himself—and studying the keys. And today, both his hands find their position on said keys and gracefully move this way and that, pressing down on them just right so that soon, he has a song, and he smiles because he imagines the hammers hitting the strings and knows that he’s the one creating these pretty sounds. Todd doesn’t think much else of what’s going on around him. Right now, it’s him and the music—that’s it.

That being said, he doesn’t notice when someone happens upon him, the unexpected visitor having picked up the soft melody from down the hall. 

Neil Perry has always been a boy who took matters into his own hands. So when he hears the pretty music, he can’t help but follow it to its source. He always thought he’d imagined the music filtering through the halls on some days, and it comes as a pleasant surprise to find out that he had not been, in fact, imagining it, and that it is very much real. 

He unconsciously begins to take strides to the beat of the song currently playing, the _clackclackclack_ of his shoes on the hardwood floor like a somber metronome ticking away the time. Something in him says he probably shouldn’t intrude on whoever is sat at that piano. They may appreciate the privacy. But it’s not like he has to make himself known. He can just stay by the door and listen. Besides, if it’s curiosity that killed the cat, it’s satisfaction that’ll bring it back. 

Neil finds the room the grand piano is situated in, and he leans against the doorframe, crossing his arms as he sets his gaze on the pianist, whose back is turned to him. At first he thinks he recognizes the figure, but then has to reconsider— _Todd can play the piano?_ But then he studies the person more and—yes, it _has_ to be Todd! _Todd can play the piano!_ Neil finds himself more surprised to discover this than when he realized he had not been imagining the music that would resound through the corridors, but it isn’t any less pleasant. For some reason, knowing that it’s Todd at that piano letting his mind and soul free makes it all the more enjoyable for Neil. There’s a sense of appreciation he now has that he might not have gained if it had been someone else stringing together those melodies. 

He’s not sure how long he stands there, but he doesn’t mind. Although he can’t see Todd’s face, he imagines his eyes are closed—and if not that then watching the keys in front of him—and his slender fingers gliding this way and that, skillfully, deftly. There’s something in Todd freeing his inner self that makes Neil instantly feel free as well. His spirits are lifted and his smile is perhaps the most genuine it’s ever been because in this moment, Todd is realer than ever, and Neil likes that. He decides he’ll have to make Todd show more of this side to him because it’s contagious and Neil feels like he’s on cloud nine and like he never wants to come down. He wonders if Todd feels that way too. He hopes so, because it’s an amazing feeling. 

Todd’s long since lost track of time, but he’s feeling more enthused than usual and can’t bring it in himself to stop, to slow down the temp and allow the sound to fade until his final note is barely audible. Each time a piece draws to a close, another one to play comes to mind, and so he shifts keys when needed before setting off on a new story, a new adventure to tell without words, only sound because that’s all that’s necessary. 

His eyes slowly slide open when he thinks he hears footsteps approaching him. His heart beats hard as if to free itself from the confines of his chest, to the point it almost hurts. Despite that, he keeps playing. Whoever it is, maybe they’ll just watch for a bit and then leave. Simple as that. 

What he isn’t expecting is the visitor to set his fingers down on the keys as well and play the part of the Secondo to the piece he’s currently playing. Todd’s eyes widen slightly and he traces the arm back to its owner—Neil. Said boy gives him a fond smile when their eyes meet and Todd averts his gaze quickly lest he mess up and miss a key or something embarrassing like that. Without prompting, and with the piece still going, he scoots down, allowing Neil to sit down as well. 

Neil’s fingers are confident in all their movements and Todd’s eyes shift from his own fingers to Neil’s every now and then, noticing how they play their respective parts smoothly and seemingly effortlessly. With Neil taking over the part of Secondo, it is then Todd becomes aware of how empty the piece had sounded with only the Primo playing. With the Secondo, the piece feels more complete and much more beautiful than it had previously been. As the volume of the piece ascends into a robust _forte_ , Todd can’t help but crack a smile at the absolute splendor of the music, of this art. 

His mind snaps back to reality when he feels Neil reach around him to reach the higher-noted end of the piano. This leaves Todd in his hold, making said boy _incredibly_ nervous, thank you very much. He can feel the warmth of Neil’s body as it’s pressed against his side, and he swallows hard as he wills himself to concentrate on his playing, and not on the boy who’s pretty much trapped him between his arms. Todd wants to say that this was planned, that Neil wanted it to happen, but…

Here, he can picture Neil smirking as he continues playing his own part with each hand on opposite ends of the piano. _“It’s part of the piece.”_

And Todd’s not saying he doesn’t _enjoy_ this, because it’s kind of a nice feeling. Scratch that—it’s a _really_ nice feeling. Goose bumps rise on his skin because of the loveliness of this piece and the close proximity he and Neil share and it’s almost too much because he _knows_ Neil knows just what he’s doing and he wants to punch Neil in the arm just like he does whenever Neil decides stealing his homework is a fun idea. But at the same time Todd doesn’t want it to end and he wonders if Neil feels the same way. 

The piece transitions into its last part and that’s when Neil moves back to his original position, but not without the fingertips of his right hand slightly brushing along Todd’s back. Todd’s not sure if that’s intentional, but knowing Neil, it probably is. 

Todd doesn’t dare look up to meet Neil’s eyes, not even for a split second as the music slows and begins to lower in volume as it approaches its end. He’s nervous it’ll cause him to mess up and blunder on the last line—and _that_ would be embarrassing. But he doesn’t _need_ to see Neil’s face to know he’s watching him. He can feel it. Neil’s wearing that knowing smile of his, Todd is sure. He won’t even be looking down at his own fingers because he’s so confident in his knowledge of this piece. And for that, Todd hates him. Neil is so sure of everything he does and Todd wants that ability, but this is how it is and how it always will remain—Neil is the leader and Todd and all the other boys, they’re followers. Neil says things and they listen. 

Neil’s part of the song ends a few measures before Todd’s, and Todd is so caught up in his thoughts that he doesn’t notice Neil abruptly end, for his fingers play the last few notes seemingly of their own accord. Neil can tell his eyes are glazed over and he chuckles quietly, but he’s not even sure Todd hears it. 

They sit there in a silence for a time, but it’s not awkward. It’s comfortable, and they both bask in the silence that followed their well done duet. There is no audience, no applause for the both of them. But that’s okay. Todd’s fingers are buzzing from their movements, and that’s good enough for him. 

“You didn’t tell me you could play the piano,” Neil says then, looking over at his friend with a small smile on his face.

“Neither did you,” Todd replies, glancing at him and returning the fond smile. Neil’s eyes are bright, he notes, and warm. There’s a small twinkle of mischief in them, and Todd sighs, albeit shakily, much to his chagrin. He knows what that means. Neil sure as hell knows what that means.

“Well then, today we both learned something.” Neil laughs. He stands up then, and Todd twists around to face him. “It was fun playing with you. We should definitely do it another time.”

“Y-Yeah…” Todd agrees meekly, eyes dropping to the floor for a moment before sliding back up to meet Neil’s. Neil’s wearing that knowing smile again, but he retreats without another word, and as soon as he walks through the door and down the hall, Todd lets out a breath he didn’t realize he had been holding.

He turns back around and stares at his reflection in the shiny music rack. He huffs, suddenly conscious of the sweat that had surfaced at the base of his neck.

_Fuck._


End file.
